


On the Doorstep

by cmk418



Category: Justified
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418
Summary: It hits him, going to his heart as quick as any bullet.  She’s selling the house.
Relationships: Gary Hawkins/Winona Hawkins
Kudos: 1





	On the Doorstep

From his vantage point on the ground, Gary can’t see the sign but he can hear metal scraping against metal in the breeze. He knows what it is; he always used to get a little thrill at driving a sign into the ground, pushing the hanging portion forward to mark the space as his. That tell-tale squeak he’s hearing right now is the sound of opportunity. It’s the opportunity to negotiate, to make personal connections, the occasion when he can show off his skills and close the deal.

And then it hits him, going to his heart as quick as any bullet. She’s selling the house.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Line’s shorter over there,” she had said, pointing to a silver-haired woman further down the counter.

“I can wait,” he’d replied. 

The exchange was not a new thing between them. He’d been coming here a month, doing the filings for the whole office. Normally, he would have delegated the more menial tasks to one of the assistants, but upon meeting Winona Givens, Gary saw the opportunity to make a connection. Any realtor worth his salt knew that would require time and attention.

So he made his way to the front of her line, standing there as she hit various pages with her little date stamp.

“Have you thought about it?” he asked. “Getting out there, testing the market?”

Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a slight frown. “Market for what exactly?” 

He flinched at the sharpness of her tone, but he forged ahead, tapping the paperwork in front of her. “Housing.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card and set it on the counter in front of her.

“Look. I know it’s a big decision, so take some time, talk it over with your-“ His voice trailed off as he noticed that she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. “Just think about it.”

She stamped the rest of his paperwork in silence, handing back the copy that would serve as the receipt for the documents. “Thank you, Winona.” He smiled brightly as he said her name, as if to let her know that smile was just for her.

She laid a hand on his arm. “Mister Hawkins, I think I might just try testing the market.”

He didn’t look at where her fingers rested. He could feel them through the sleeve of his suit jacket just above his wrist and knew that the tiniest movement would bring her fingers into contact with his skin. He held her gaze and could see the moment when she realized she hadn’t broken contact with him. She gave him a slight smile before picking up his business card and slipping it into her pocket.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Testing the market. That could be it. She’d have to let him know if she was thinking about selling – his name is still on the deed. So she’s seeing what it’s worth, what the market will allow and he’s proud of her for doing it. 

He wonders if Raylan pushed her into it. Raylan, who’s set on severing every tie she has with Gary and wanting to make a fresh start. He could have killed Wynn Duffy any number of times, but did he do it? No, he made Gary run away, forced Gary to leave his wife behind, all so Raylan could pick up the pieces. 

Everything’s getting red around the edges now and Gary’s not sure if it’s due to anger or his current physical state. The thing about not killing Duffy still irritates him. It’s not like Raylan didn’t know how. Stupid fucking gun thug in Miami can’t just leave town quietly, no. And Raylan can’t keep his mouth shut and stay on desk duty. Raylan has to get transferred, and not to any office, but one that’s literally three floors away from his ex-wife. 

What does Gary get? Kicked out of his home and stuck playing Walter Parks to half-empty conference rooms in Tulsa.

Shit. All of the identification that’s currently on him says ‘Walter Parks.’ Will the police know who they’re looking at? They don’t know who Walter Parks is; hell, Gary barely knows who Walter Parks is. 

He thinks back to a conversation he had with Winona right before he was obliged to leave town. He’d said, “Sometimes I’ll do something and it feels like it’s not even me doing it. You know like I’m watching myself from the outside and I’m saying ‘who is this guy and what is he thinking?’”

He wonders if perhaps it’s the other way around. Maybe Walter is the best part of him, the part that makes the right choices, is unselfish – why else would he share his secrets with a bunch of strangers? If he could make a go of it as Walter, without all the baggage from Gary, from Winona and their life together, then maybe he can win her back, even though in a way it feels like cheating.

He can’t do it. He doesn’t want to end his life as Walter Parks. He wants himself again. This is his house and his wife will be coming home soon to meet him and if that’s anyone sign in the front yard, it’s his – Gary Hawkins, Realtor Extraordinaire.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Is this the same place?” she asked, following him up the walk. The house was a two-story fixer-upper in a fairly decent neighborhood that he bought soon after it went into foreclosure. Winona had seen it in the early stages, before the half-dozen contractors, landscapers, and painters went to work on it.

“You should see the inside,” he said.

“Isn’t that why you brought me?” She gave him a patient smile. He’d done this several times, taken her to see houses that he was ready to show. Sometimes she offered suggestions and gave him insight to what people walking into the home for the first time would notice. Showing Winona a house became a valuable part of his process.

She walked into the kitchen and “ooh”-ed and “ahh”-ed over the cabinets and counter space. He knew that one of her chief complaints about their condo was the lack of counter space in the kitchen. She moved through the rest of the house, marveling about the amount of natural light filtering in through the windows. “This is beautiful.”

“Do you like it? I mean, really?”

“It’s bright, spacious, and you got rid of that weird smell in the basement. Yes, I like it.”

“Could you see yourself living here?”

“We’d have to get rid of your recliner.”

“Nah. I got a spot all picked out for it. Sort of like my man-cave.”

She gave him that narrow-eyed look that she often did when he was about to get into trouble. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I bought the house. For us. No more little condo. Something permanent.”

“It’s pretty big for two people.”

“Well, maybe we won’t be just two people for long.”

“Pretty sure I’m going to say ‘yes’ to this, are you?”

“I’m hopeful.”

“So, which room is the bedroom?”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

He lets out a sigh, remembering how things were between them now. There’s no twinge in his chest. In fact, he can barely feel the pain anymore from where the bullet hit him. He might be going into a little bit of shock from the blood loss – he’s been told that happens, not that he has any prior experience. It’s nice to be here, so close to his home. Because this is his home.

Maybe not the house, but the divorce papers haven’t been signed yet. He’s still got a chance to make this work, to remind Winona of what they had.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Raylan’s car pulled up to the house and Gary got out. He was battered and bruised and had just given away his dream property. It had not been a good day.

But she was there, standing at the front door, waiting for him. 

As he crossed the threshold, the idea of ideas came to him. He could see it: a few hundred acres in the wilds of Kentucky and in the middle of it, one of those retreat-slash-meeting centers for corporate big shots out of Lexington to take their staffs for a weekend of bonding and brainstorming.

It was perfect.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>  
He stares up at the stars.

She’ll be home soon.

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt - Gary's thoughts as he was being killed


End file.
